


Sweet Spot

by RosexKnight



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29611143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosexKnight/pseuds/RosexKnight
Summary: Nathaniel Howe is having trouble reconciling his feelings for Warden-Commander Surana and her actions against his family, so he tries to get her to send him away. Instead, she pulls him closer.Or: I played Origins and Awakening and this whole thing wouldn't leave my mind until it was written and apparently Nathaniel sneaking into the Warden-Commander's room at night is just a trope so here's my comtribution.
Relationships: Nathaniel Howe/Female Warden
Kudos: 8





	Sweet Spot

Anders had told her years ago about the importance of a man’s touch on her back.

She was naive and spoiled for a mage. Too trusting of her peers and the Templars. Being Irving’s favorite had gained her quite a bit of respect but also animosity. The fact that she was an elf and all of the stereotypes that came with that were no help. It had apparently worried both Anders and Jowan to no end. She herself was a tactile person, never blinking an eye at the casual touches she gave or received, which only made their worry grow. The two had all but cornered her in her dorm one morning to explain things.

“Look,” Anders had said, placing a hand high on her back, “If a guy puts his hand here, he’s not a threat. He’s a friend. It’s meant to be comforting.”

Jowan nodded, his arms crossed as he sat on her bed. “Though that position from the front has a whole different meaning.”

“Well, yeah.” Anders said, rolling his eyes. “But someone would have to have a death wish to try that.”

Neria had nodded. That was a familiar position. She’d hardly blinked when Anders had snaked his arm around her back. However, his hand slid lower, stopping just at the curve of her hips, and her body immediately tensed.

“This means their intentions are...less than noble.” Anders said.

“Trying to cop a feel.” Jowan added helpfully.

“Oh.” Neria had said in understanding, suddenly realizing why they were so worried when one particular Templar had caught them after curfew and guided her back to the dorms. “I get it now.”

“Feel free to give anyone who touches you there a good shock.” Anders said, bringing his hand away. “You see why we were worried?”

“What about in between?”

“What?”

Jowan stood, his hands moving forward, moving up and then down before stopping in between, and finally bringing his hand to rest on her waist, just above her hips but below her ribs. “Here?”

Anders chuckled at Jowan’s awkwardness, but his hand soon joined Jowan’s on her back. Neria didn’t know quite how to react. These two were like brothers to her, and they had indeed adopted her as their little sister of sorts, but their touch suddenly felt too intimate.

“THIS is the sweet spot. This means, well, that a guy likes you. Well and truly. Might even want to court you properly. Might even love you.”

Jowan pulled his hand away immediately, as if burned. His nose scrunched. “What?”

“Come on, Jowan, isn’t this where your hands naturally go when you’re with your Lily?”

Jowan opened his mouth to argue, but soon shut it. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

With that, Anders had patted her on the head and they had moved off to their studies. The lesson was one she took to heart. It allowed her to know Cullen’s true feelings for her as he guided her from her room to the upper floors of the tower the night of her Harrowing. To know what low-lifes to shock or burn in a tavern as Duncan took her from the Circle Tower to Ostagar. To know how Alistair truly felt about her both before the Landsmeet, when things were simple, and after when he was made King, compromising to rule at Anora’s side. To know that Anders, even after all the years, still saw her as a little sister. And, finally, to know how Nathaniel Howe felt about her.

The first time it happened, she didn’t think much of it. It was after a particularly rough battle with the Darkspawn on a bit of farmland, and his hand lingered on her back as they all slowly hobbled back to Vigil’s Keep. She was covered in blood and grime, and he likely didn’t want his hand in that filth. The second time was after they had begun clearing out the basements of Vigil’s Keep. She’d expended too much mana and nearly collapsed. He was at her side in a moment to steady her, his hand lingering on her as he helped her back out of the basement. She and Anders had even shared a knowing look, and she was surprised when her oh-so-protective older brother hadn’t mentioned anything.

The third time, now, he was over her in bed, eyes half-bleary with whatever he’d been drinking with Ogrhen. Drinking made him think too much, and a sleepless night from nightmares of Darkspawn meant he had plenty of time to linger on the unpleasant things. Perhaps that was why he’d snuck his way into her room, waking her only to loom over her, hands on her waist, just above the curve of her hips but below her ribs. The touch was too intimate, too tender. It stirred something in her that she thought long dead.

“I’m a Howe.” He said, when she opened her eyes to blink against the dim candlelight she always kept. He was obviously taking great pains to keep his voice low and steady. “We take what we want. What we deserve. That’s what my father always said. I’m a Howe.”

Neria took in a shaky breath, her sleep-addled mind attempting to take stock of the situation. She and Nathaniel’s relationship, she thought, was complicated. One moment he was watching her back with more focus and attention than even Leliana had, and the next he was mouthing off and grumbling about even the smallest inconvenience she caused and throwing any insult at her with a voice so icy it made her veins cold. They laughed together as easily as they made biting remarks that probably stung more than they should. Sometimes, the looks he gave her reminded her of Alistair when he was caught staring in camp, and sometimes his scowl was enough to send a shiver of fear through her that even the archdemon hadn’t achieved. She was never sure if he wanted to kill her or kiss her. Possibly both.

She never understood him.

He was trying to...intimidate her? Coming into her bedchambers in the middle of the night when she was only in a cotton shift, tossing away the blankets and settling himself over her. However, she was a mage. He had to know that. She could overpower him at any time, even without a weapon. He hadn’t dressed for an assasination, in simple cotton breeches and shirt. Did he even have a weapon? He’d straddled her hips, not even trying to open her legs. And his hands stayed in place as they stared each other down. Neria was surprised at the fact that this touch, from him, was not unwelcome. She quite enjoyed how intimate it felt and the way hands made her skin tingle and belly flutter. She wondered if she imagined the tremble in them.

He made no other move, only scowled down at her. He hadn’t come to kill her, but it didn’t seem like he came to kiss her either. It confused her to no end.

“Nathaniel…” Her voice was smooth and calm, the tone she’d used when her Mabari was in distress and needed calming. Her hands, which he hadn’t even attempted to bind, came up to rest on his arms, her thumbs running soothing circles. “What are you doing?”

He faltered then, she saw it in his eyes. “I…”

“You’re frustrated?” She surmised. “Because of your feelings for me?”

There was a flash of rage for a moment, and his grip tightened on her waist so hard it was almost painful. “The only feelings I have for you are...disdain.”

She did not miss the way his voice cracked on the last word. The way it seemed as if he were trying to convince himself of it. Neria tried not to let a smile form on her lips, truly.

“You can’t reconcile your feelings for me with the pain I caused you, right?” Her head quirked to the side. “You should hate me because of what I did, even if your father was a but you don’t? So you came to...” Her voice trailed off, genuinely unsure.

“I came to take what I want.” This time, his voice did sound determined.

“You’re doing a poor job.” She pointed out. “If it’s revenge you want, you’ve missed your chance for a sneak attack, which is the only way you’d kill me. One scream and the whole keep would be here. You haven’t even bound my hands, and I’m a mage. I could freeze you where you sit.”

“I…”

“And if it’s my...body you want,” His hands WERE trembling, she realized, as his fingers twitched against her. “To...take some of that frustration out on me? Well, you haven’t attempted that either. And again, mage. It’s not as if I can’t defend myself.”

Nathaniel looked suddenly very helpless over her, his eyes searching her a moment before flickering down to her lips and chest. Her hands slid further up his arms, attempting to rub the tension out of them.

“You’re trying to scare me.” She decided. “So that I’ll send you away, and you won’t have to face any of it.” Nathaniel paused, his gaze flickering back up to Neria’s. She saw the darkness behind his eyes. But she recognized the tender want too. She felt her fickle herd stir with something big and warm that she hadn’t felt since Alistair and the Landsmeet. Since when had she begun to fall for this man? “Tell me, Nathaniel Howe, what would you do if your advances were welcome?”

His eyes widened, and he attempted to pull away, but her hands on her arms held him in place. She had no intention of sending him away. She wouldn’t let him run. He seemed to understand that much, and his hands fisted in her shift as his whole body went tense.

“Do I need to make that an order from your Commander?” She asked when he still remained silent.

That did it. He nearly growled as he leaned over her to bring his lips to her pointed ear.

“I would take you, my lady, as rough and hard as I well pleased.” He said, still trying to be intimidating. Still trying to talk her out of whatever this was. But his voice was too smooth, and it made her shiver with excitement when he used the endearment. “I’d make you scream my name until your voice was hoarse, and see to it that you had trouble walking in the morning.”

She hummed in consideration, sliding her arms around his shoulders. His whole body was trembling, wound like a bowstring. He must have been holding himself together by a thread when she told him that she wanted this. One hand came to card through his ebony hair, but it seemed to do little to soothe him.

He didn’t move, his eyes wavering, so she decided to take a chance, “Promise?”

Nathaniel growled against her ear, and his lips were suddenly on her neck. She squeaked when she felt the sharp sting of teeth in the sweet spot just below her earlobe before his tongue soothed it away.

“Maker take you, Surana.” His voice gritted out, his hands finally moving to shove her shift up so he could touch her impossibly soft skin properly.

“You first, Howe.”

With another rumble of frustration from him, his lips were on hers. The kiss was searing. Overpowering. There was no fight for dominance as his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue tasting her shamelessly. She moaned into his lips, more than happy to allow him to take control. He tasted bitter from whatever he’d been drinking before, and she was sure he could taste the faint twang of Lerium on her lips, but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest. His tongue intertwined with hers easily in a dance so much more skilled than she was used to. It made her tremble.

Neria realized, as one of Nathaniel’s hands skimmed under her shift to cup her breast and roll a nipple between his fingers and the other moved lower to caress down her waist and thumb at her smalls, that he was PRACTICED. The thought sent a small wave of panic through her. Alistair had been...inexperienced when he laid with her, eager to learn to please her and so, so good at following directions. But Nathaniel’s hands moved over her as if he already knew her. As if he was a bard and her his instrument.

She was in trouble.

He pulled away from her lips, panting just above her for a moment before sitting up to remove her shift from her entirely. Her hands fell to his sides, tugging at his tunic, and in a moment he’d expertly undone the laces of his collar and removed it as well. His skin was soft under her fingers, but the tension of his muscles never left, and only seemed to grow more tense the more she touched. She wondered vaguely where a noble would get some of the faint scars she saw peppering his skin in the candlelight, but she couldn’t quite find her voice.

“Maker’s breath but you’re beautiful.” He whispered, lowering his lips to hers again.

This time, the kiss was slow. Tender. Soft presses of his lips against hers, and languid show of tongue. Her hands wrapped around him once again, her nails softly scratching his back and scalp. He moaned against her in appreciation. His own hands were on her waist again, taking their time in exploring her. Waist, breasts, chest, arms, neck, hips. He was savoring this, committing every bit of her to memory. His lips shifted, moving down to kiss her jaw and along her neck, humming against the hollow of her throat.

“Would you hate me if I left a mark?” His voice was husky as his lips teased her skin. “Show that fool Anders who you chose to take to bed.”

Neria blinked. Was he jealous of ANDERS of all people?

“Anders isn’t—”

Her explanation was cut short as his lips found their desired spot, then his teeth. His tongue would soothe the sting soon after, but then his teeth would find her again. It made her moan. Made her hand tangle in his hair.

She let out his name in a shaky breath “Nate…”

His hand came to roll a nipple between his fingers, pinching perhaps a bit too hard. She whined.

“Full name.”

“Nathaniel…!”

This time his name was a desperate keening on her lips, and it made him moan his approval in reply.

“That’s right…”

The praise made her body sing, warming further, and she suddenly felt too hot. Neria’s magic tingled against her skin with every place his lips and hands touched. She had to take a few breaths to steady herself, lest that warmth manifest in her fingertips and set fire to something.

He shifted back to admire her. Neria’s skin was soft. Perfect for lips and hands to roam over. He savored the small arches and trembles of her body as his hands explored her, but his chest swelled with something other than possessive lust as she gazed up at him, lips parted slightly in shaky breaths and a red mark newly formed on her neck. The collar of her robes might cover it, but someone would notice. They would all know.

His fingers came up to trace the love bite and she shuddered under him. They moved lower, followed by his lips. His hands came to cup her breasts, massaging languidly, but firmly. Neria arched into his touch. They fit into his palms easily, perfectly, and Nathaniel tried not to linger too much on that thought. He finally smiled, leaning forward to kiss her once again, deciding it was something he could do forever, before his lips moved down her neck again.

“Maker, but you are flawless.” He purred against her collar bone. “Please tell me you’ve been told that before.”

Neria smiled as her mind went back to her nights with Alistair and all the complements he always peppered her with. “I might have heard it once or twice. But I’d rather not dwell on past lovers.”

Nathaniel hummed, moving further down her body. His lips brushed over the swell of her breast before finally he took a rosy nipple into her mouth. Neria moaned, louder this time, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle it with a bite, lest the whole keep know what was happening. He grinned against her breast, his teeth grazing her bud before turning his attention to the other. His tongue and mouth made her back arch and had hips wiggle under him, her hands tugging on his hair. His mouth left her nipple with a sinful POP.

Nathaniel moved, shifting to run his hands down her body to her legs, lifting one to finally move around him. He brought her knee up, kissing it easily.

“You deserve to be told that every day. You were wasted in that Circle.”

She giggled. “Is this the part where you say that if I were born a noble I would have had you at my beck and call as a suitor?”

“You might have.” He agreed with a chuckle, running a hand up and down her thigh, his touch too soft to do anything but tease, make her skin tingle and warm anew. His lips touched her knee again. Moving down her thigh. Softer, his lips a whisper against her skin as they moved further down her thighs. “You have me, now.”

Neria blinked at him, wondering if she’d heard that right. His fingers thumbed her smalls again, and she watched as he hesitated, glancing to her. Another out. Another chance for her to stop him and send him away. She nodded, her hand coming to join his in undressing her.

His hand found hers, bringing her wrist to his lips. He then turned his attention to undressing her. He straightened, slipping her smalls off easily. She bent her knees to assist him, and when he tossed her smalls to the side with the rest of their clothes she shifted to allow him to settle between them.

He looked over her body as if he were a man dying of thirst. There was no more waver in his eyes. No darkness. Only fire. It made Neria blush. It felt far too intense. Too intimate. Even Alistair hadn’t looked at her like that.

She needed to stop thinking about Alistair.

Nathaniel brought one of her legs up, hooking it over her shoulder as he bent down to kiss her navel.

“I’m going to make you scream now.” He said, his fingers trailing up her inner thigh to ghost over the apex. She could feel the smile on his lips against her skin. “And I want to hear when you do.”

Neria shuddered under him as he brought the second leg to join the first. She took another breath as his lips moved lower, one hand moving to hold a leg steady while the other brushed her folds. She all but arched off the bed at his touch, light and so, so not enough.

He chuckled “Has it been so long that you react like a blushing maiden?”

“If I were a blushing maiden the sheets would be on fire by now.” She breathed, steadying her voice and flexing her tingling hand against his skin to prove her point. “You...I’m not used to a man who...Knows well what he’s doing.”

This only seemed to embolden him, and he ran a finger through her folds as he turned to moan against her inner thigh when she found her wet and wanting for him. This was answered by her own moan, loud and wanton, as his thumb found her clit and skillfully circled. His teeth found her soft skin again, and she whined as his tongue lagged the sting away. Apparently he was not content with leaving only one mark.

“I’ll consider it an honor if you set the room ablaze then.”

His teeth and tongue moved lower and lower. Nathaniel was all but laying between her legs now. Neria’s body burned with anticipation, and when he finally brought his mouth to her folds she nearly wailed. Her hand came up, slapping over her mouth to stifle the sound. She didn’t need the soldiers running in to see what was causing her to make these noises. But then she felt the brush of teeth on her sensitive nub and she was whining anew.

“I said I want to hear it.” He whispered against her folds, lapping at her languidly.

Maker but the man would be the death of her.

Her hand left her mouth, finding purchase instead in his hair, and he hummed in approval. The other fisted in the sheets, and she tried to focus on the feel of him under her fingertips, but then his tongue lapped at her again and she was lost.

Scream she did.

His motions were slow and languid as his hands had been on her body, and he moaned in approval when he entered her with two fingers and felt her tighten around him. When his attention found her clit, it was fast and erratic. His fingers curled once, twice, before his tongue would slow and start the cycle all over again. This was for her, she realized, solely so that she could hear her moan, hear her cry out his name on her lips, feel her squirm under him desperate and wanting. Hands tightened in his hair, pulling slightly to encourage him. Beg him for more. It was maddening. She felt the warmth within her burning under her skin. Pressure built and she could have soared when she neared sweet release.

His name was a high pitched cry on her lips, sounding more like a plea as her legs trembled. “Nathaniel…!”

He pulled away altogether, and Neria nearly sobbed in frustration. He moved to loom over her again, helping her wrap her legs around his waist. Somehow in all of this she’d missed him sliding down his pants, and now he was before her, at full attention, and she was too weak-kneed to do anything but pant and glower and lamely reach for him.

“You stopped...I--”

He cut her off with a kiss, quick and hard. She felt him move, grinding his velvet-steel length against her wet folds. “This is what I want.” He panted, moving his hips again, his tip brushing deliciously against her clit. “To feel you come apart around me.”

“I thought…” She gave him a lopsided grin. “Rough and hard?”

Nathaniel blinked down at her, but then shook his head.

“I believe I said as rough and hard as I PLEASED.” He teased, moving to line herself up against her. “And tonight I would have you another way.”

She opened her mouth to give some sort of retort, but then he was entering her, agonizingly slowly. She felt every inch of him as he moved his hips forward, moaning as he did. She felt him stretch her, felt the slight curve of him, felt their warmth mingle as he slowly filled her. His hands moved to her hips, lifting to angle them just so. He moved forward another inch that was so close but not enough.

This time his name was a plea. “Nathaniel…”

He grinned, and entered her fully in one fluid thrust. His hips met hers, his member hitting a spot that was new to her, and she cried out again, an unashamed noise of pure bliss as stars flashed behind her eyes and she felt her skin and bones tremble. Close. So close.

Nathaniel chuckled, reaching for the hand fisted in the sheets, warm and smoldering and now seared.

“Easy, Neria. You’ve burned a hole.” He brought her palm to his lips, beginning to move his hips back and allow her to feel him as he left her. He seemed to hold back a moan with her palm, his voice husky and strained. “Is it always fire?”

“Nathaniel PLEASE.” She demanded.

He feigned innocence with a hum, moving within her slowly, as if his own body wasn’t trembling as she was.

“Again.” Was all she could manage.

He obliged, thrusting home once more, and Neria moaned under him.

“Maker’s breath.” She whined as he moved back again, then forward.

Her body shuddered under him as she cried out his name, but Nathaniel wasn’t content with it. He kept her hips firmly where they were, chasing his own ecstasy while skillfully turning her overly-sensitive body into a moaning, squirming mess.

“That’s it. That’s what I want.” He brought a hand between them, circling her clit and making her clench around him and wail all over again. He groaned at the sound.

Her hands gripped his arms, his shoulders, anywhere they could touch. Clumsy and unskilled, but he didn’t complain. In fact, it only encouraged him. He moved, bracing himself against the bed with both arms as he thrust harder into her, movements fast and uncalculated.

“That’s it…” She praised, her arms wrapping around his neck and combing through his hair.

He buried his face in her neck, nose brushing the love-mark as his arms all but crushed her to his body.

“Neria…”

“You feel so good.” She breathed against his ear, words slurring with blissful delirium. “Will you come for me, my dearest?”

With a groan he did indeed come for her, almost immediately. He held steady and Neria felt his member twitch inside her as he spent himself. She hummed as they attempted to catch her breath. Already the exhaustion was catching up to her. Her throat felt rough, and she was uncertain of the ability of her legs to hold her up.

Nathaniel’s arms began to tremble, and he rolled to the side, slipping out of her as he collapsed beside her on the bed.

Neria frowned as her fingers moved over the sheets at her side. Indeed, there did seem to be a hole, singed around the edges and perfectly palm-shaped.

“I’ll need new sheets.” She said. Nathaniel only grunted in response. “And we both need to clean up…”

He grumbled, moving to pull her against him. She squeaked as strong arms found her, crushing her against his body. His hands drifted back down to the curve of her waist, below the ribs yet just above the hips. There was a long pause, and for a moment Neria thought He had fallen asleep. She certainly was close. But then his voice drifted to her, soft and shaky.

“I’m…”

“If you’re about to apologize I will set your hair on fire.” She cut him off. Nathaniel chuckled against her hair. “Did you get what you want, Howe?”

He pulled away enough to look at her. To cup her cheek with his hand. To kiss her once again, tender and languid. His hands gripped her by the waist, the sweet spot that felt far too inanimate.

He pulled away to press his forehead to hers and gaze at her. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and words, large and scary welled in her throat. Finally, he spoke.

“That remains to be seen. Enough of me, though. What do YOU want, my lady?”

Neria paused, the words caught on her tongue. She stopped herself before she could say something foolish like his heart. “A bath.” She finally blurted. Nathaniel’s brows furrowed in what seemed to be worry before she continued. “A midnight snack. And a scandal tomorrow when you’re caught leaving your Commander’s room at an inappropriate time.”

He chuckled, pulling her against him once again. “Then it shall be done.”


End file.
